


Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of

by loves_books



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lewis Summer Challenge 2015, M/M, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James had always prided himself on never actively searching for his soulmate. If the universe was right and they were truly meant to meet, then he shouldn’t have to search. But that had never stopped his heart skipping a beat every time he heard one particular name mentioned. The name inscribed in elegant script along the lifeline of his right palm.</p><p><em>Robert</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Year One

**Author's Note:**

> With huge thanks to Willowbrooke for patiently beta-ing several different drafts of this story, and for being so encouraging and helpful throughout, particularly with the ending. 
> 
> With thanks also to Perclexed for requesting a soulmark fic - this story isn't something I ever would have attempted, or even thought of, without your prompt.

James had always prided himself on never actively searching for his soulmate. He had never watched any of the countless daytime shows on ITV featuring newly united couples, or the ‘blind date’ shows on a Saturday night pairing up those with matching names on their hands to see if they were meant to be together. He never read the listings in the national press or the Oxford Mail, never looked at the ads saying ‘Sarah searching for her Stephen’ or ‘Ahmed looking for his Jasper’. 

He had always believed that one day, if the universe was right and he was truly meant to find his other half, then they would meet without any effort on his part. If he was meant to meet his soulmate, and if his soulmate was destined to find him in return, then he shouldn’t have to search. Surely the whole point of having a soulmate in the first place was that it was destiny. It wasn’t about taking out adverts in the papers or appearing on telly; it was about fate, pure and simple.

Even though James had never actively searched, it didn’t stop his heart skipping a beat every time he heard one particular name mentioned. The name he kept hidden from the world, as so many chose to do, safe beneath a pair of fingerless gloves. The name inscribed in elegant yet clear script along the lifeline of his right palm; James glanced at it briefly every morning before slipping his gloves on, trying not to wonder if that day would be the day he and his soulmate might meet for the first time.

When CS Innocent stuck her head around the office door one afternoon and asked him to pick up an officer returning from a two year secondment in the British Virgin Islands, James’s heart nearly stopped beating altogether. He was aware he was staring up at her blankly, his mouth gaping open.

“Sergeant?” Innocent questioned, frowning slightly. “Is that okay?”

James shook himself quickly, nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, that’s fine, of course.” He swallowed hard, and tried to wipe the shock from his face. “What was his name again?”

“DI Robert Lewis. Robbie.” Innocent checked her watch quickly, turning to go. “I’ll have Sally email you the flight details.” 

“Yes, ma’am…” But the CS had already gone, leaving James trembling slightly in his chair.

It couldn’t be, surely. Not after all these years of waiting. Years of wondering, but not searching. Years of being as patient as he could, watching as those around him found their soulmates and settled down.

After all these years, could it really be this simple? Could fate really just throw the two of them together so casually? 

James clenched his right fist tightly, feeling the well-worn leather of his working gloves flex around his hand, pulling tight over the name etched into his palm.

_Robert._

The rest of the day passed painfully slowly in a blur of paperwork, cold cases, and clearing up after DI Knox’s last attempt at reorganising their shared office. James felt guilty for actually wishing someone would commit a serious crime – he needed to be busy, needed to be thinking about something else, anything else, but there were no such distractions to be found.

A sleepless night followed the endless day, until finally James found himself at Heathrow early the following morning, waiting for the flight that would bring DI Robert Lewis back to England. The plane was delayed, typically, and James passed the time by drinking several cups of coffee and making himself a sign to help the returning man spot him in the crowd.

As much as he longed to write ‘Robert’ or even ‘Robbie’, he forced himself to remain professional; ‘Lewis’ would serve just as well. He knew that the odds were against this Robert being _his_ Robert. It was a common enough name, just as James was – when he was younger he’d often envied those with unusual names, wondering why his parents hadn’t named him Eusabius or Zachariah, or even spelt James slightly differently, perhaps with two ‘a’s instead of the obvious one.

Waiting by the arrivals gate, James felt something twist deep in his stomach when he spotted the tired-looking man in the bright blue Hawaiian shirt and rumpled beige suit pushing a trolley of suitcases. Could this be him? He was older than James, as expected, with dark hair and the brightest blue eyes James had ever seen, and even though he seemed understandably worn after a long flight, he still looked kind and intelligent and somehow absolutely perfect.

It was him, it had to be, but James swallowed hard and forced himself to wait, holding his hand-drawn sign out and making himself stay casual and relaxed as the man came closer.

“Are you for me?” The first words out of the older man’s mouth made James’s heart start racing fast, thudding against his ribcage, and the whole world seemed to grow a little brighter around the two of them as adrenaline flooded his body.

_Yes_ , he thought immediately, but he managed to keep his voice steady as he replied, “If you’re Inspector Lewis, Oxfordshire Police?” 

“Well, I am. Never ordered a taxi.” Oh, those bright blue eyes. James felt he could drown in those eyes, but to his surprise and disappointment he saw no matching spark there when Lewis met his gaze.

“Well you’re in luck then, sir, because I’m not one.” He fumbled into his pocket, silently cursing his trembling hands, and finally managed to produce his warrant card. “DS James Hathaway. Chief Superintendent Innocent sent me.”

Lewis looked surprised, understandably. “Very good of her.”

“Yeah.” James had thought it an odd request at first, though obviously his own initial surprise had faded at the feeling of fate intervening. Now, though, it just felt odd once again, and slightly uncomfortable. “Um, shall we?”

A flight attendant came jogging up to them, and James was grateful for a moment’s reprieve as DI Lewis – Robert – looked away from him. Weren’t they supposed to fall into each other’s arms at this point? Shouldn’t they both know, immediately, that they were meant to be together?

As much as he’d tried not to work himself up about today, he knew he’d been hoping that this would be the day he’d meet his soulmate and could finally stop feeling so alone. All his life he’d felt like the odd man out, and the only thing that had kept him going some days was the thought that there was someone out there who was destined to understand him completely and love him unconditionally.

When DI Lewis finally turned back to him, James had himself somewhat back under control. If it was meant to be then it was meant to be – he wouldn’t say anything unless the other man did.

But instead of the declaration of love James had secretly hoped for, or the tentative questions that were far more likely, they shared some small talk about orchids and how long Lewis had been away. Finally, the returning DI said, “Home, James,” with a tired smile that nearly made James weak at the knees. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

It wasn’t until Lewis asked to stop off at a cemetery on their way back into Oxford that James finally felt all the pieces slide into place, and he realised the true depth of his error. Watching from a respectful distance as the older man knelt in front of his wife’s grave, he had to accept that this couldn’t be his Robert or, if it was, then this wasn’t their time. Robert Lewis had already loved and lost his soulmate, and even if he was one of the very lucky few who could find true love a second time, the grieving man clearly wasn’t ready yet.

James knew very little about what odds he faced, but he did know they were stacked against him. An unlucky minority of people never had a name on their palm at all, while most were born with the first name of their soulmate etched into the skin of their right hand. If they lost their partner, or if their other half tragically died before they even met, a rare handful of people developed a second name under the first. A second chance at love and happiness, a gift from the universe itself, never to replace the first love but destined to be just as strong.

But later that week, that knowledge and understanding didn’t stop James from asking CS Innocent to give DI Lewis first refusal. Lewis was most likely not his soulmate, but they had worked together well during that first case, and everything inside James was screaming at him to stay close to this man.


	2. Year Two

Losing Val had been completely devastating, and there were still times when Robbie wondered how on earth he had managed to survive without her. He’d known the moment he’d seen her for the very first time, all those long years ago back in Manchester, that she was meant to be his – even before he’d found out her name, even before they’d talked and got to know each other. Robbie had felt it deep in his stomach. His heart had started beating faster, and he’d felt excited and nervous and a little sick all at the same time, from the first moment she’d turned to him and their eyes had met across the room.

He knew it wasn’t the same for everyone, of course. Val’d had a weakness for cheesy women’s magazines, the type with pages devoted to stories of soulmates who had found each other against all the odds, and Robbie might have occasionally glanced at some of them over the years. He knew it wasn’t always an instant recognition when two soulmates met for the first time, wasn’t always like lightning striking, though that adrenaline rush seemed to be a common theme.

Val had always said she’d known from that first moment as well. She’d known he was her Robert, just as he’d understood in a heartbeat that she was his Valerie. They’d been as happy it was possible for two people to be, and then, suddenly, she was gone.

Robbie still didn’t quite understand how he hadn’t known. He’d read stories, in those same cheesy mags, where one soulmate literally felt torn in half in the moment when the other had died. There were stories of older couples who only survived each other by minutes, one soulmate’s heart giving out just after their partner had passed away, but Robbie hadn’t known, hadn’t felt it at all.

It had taken a phone call from the Met to make him realise there was a hole in his life, a gaping wound where his Valerie had been ripped away from him by some bastard who hadn’t even bothered to stop the car. He should’ve felt it, the moment her heart stopped, but he’d felt nothing.

Afterwards, usually when he’d had a little too much to drink, he’d spent a lot of time thinking about that. Wondering how on earth he’d been able to go about his afternoon as usual while she had already been growing cold in a morgue. It had suddenly made sense to him that sometimes the surviving half of a soulmate pair killed themselves when they heard the news, or soon after, rather than facing life alone again.

Everyone coped with loss differently, of course, and while Robbie couldn’t say he hadn’t thought about it in his darkest moments after losing Val, he’d ultimately known that she wouldn’t have wanted that for him. He’d carried on living because she couldn’t, as hard as that had been at times, somehow finding an inner strength he never realised he had. A strength he’d never needed until she was gone and he was left alone. 

They hadn’t been like some soulmates who claimed to be able to always feel what the other was thinking, or who couldn’t bear to be more than a few metres away from each other, but they had completed each other in so many ways. When he lost her, life had seemed terribly cold and pointless, and not even Lyn and Mark had been able to pull him out of his depression.

The secondment had seemed like a decent enough idea at the time, and two years away from Oxford had certainly done him a world of good. He’d stopped the excessive drinking, got his head down, and done his job to the best of his abilities, though it still felt strange to be back now, without Val.

But life had to move on, and to Robbie’s surprise he was starting to feel almost okay again, nearly two years after returning to Oxford. Not happy, not yet, but as if the possibility of happiness was no longer quite such an impossible dream.

He was aware, of course, that some people who'd lost their soulmates eventually had a second name slowly begin to form on their palm, underneath the first. It wasn't common, but it did happen and Robbie wasn't really sure how he felt about that. He knew that Val wouldn't want him to be alone for the rest of his life, but he also knew he wasn't even remotely ready to consider the possibility that there might be someone else out there waiting for him. It felt far too much like a betrayal to Val right now, though perhaps in time he might feel differently. 

For now, though, he still wore his wedding ring, and each and every morning he looked at Val’s name written on his palm, kissing it reverently before tugging on the gloves he wore religiously. He was as careful as he’d always been to never take them off around other people, determined to keep his love for her safe and as close to his heart as he could; he felt strongly that it was private, meant for his eyes only even now, and the gloves also helped to avoid sympathetic looks and awkward questions. 

Most people wore gloves of some kind in public, particularly when they were at work, though some young people had taken to leaving their hands bare once they had found their soulmate. It was almost like a badge of honour these days, a status symbol of sorts – naked palms had been taboo in years gone by, but even some of the younger coppers nowadays didn’t bother with their gloves once they were settled.

It hadn’t escaped Robbie’s notice, though, that James was never without his gloves either. Robbie preferred full gloves, a thin cotton that covered from the tips of his fingers all the way up to his wrists, while his sergeant was never without fingerless black leather gloves, leaving those long pale fingers of his free to tap away at his Blackberry or toy with a cigarette. 

Robbie had never asked, and never would. It wasn’t the done thing to ask about another person’s soulmate name, though he hoped James did indeed have a name written on his palm. Finding James waiting for him had been the best thing by far about Robbie’s return to Oxford, and he felt the two of them had shared a special bond from their first meeting. ‘Home, James’, he’d joked in his exhaustion and sorrow, and somehow that had developed into James asking to work with him and then into the two of them becoming close friends.

But he’d felt for some time that James needed a partner, and Robbie desperately hoped the younger man simply hadn’t met his soulmate yet, rather than having loved and lost far too young. He’d caught James rubbing circles in the palm of his right hand with his left thumb, often when he was lost in thought, and it always made something twist deep in his belly; James’s soulmate was out there, somewhere, and Robbie only hoped the man’s partner would be worthy of him when they eventually met.

If he knew the name of James’s soulmate, then Robbie would discretely try to help find his friend’s missing half, but of course he’d never ask. Even after nearly losing James to Zoe Kenneth, when he’d stood watch over the younger man as he lay unconscious in a hospital bed for one of the longest nights of Robbie’s life, he’d never once been tempted to look at his friend’s palm. James’s gloves had been removed by the nurses, presumably as they’d washed the worst of the smoke and soot from his pale skin, and his hands had lain naked on top of the blankets, resting palm down.

Robbie had closed his own fingers around James’s in an attempt to comfort his friend as he had tossed and turned in his drugged sleep. Eventually, when James was sleeping peacefully at last, he’d simply tucked those long arms and cool hands carefully beneath the covers, wanting James to feel safe when he woke. 

And when James had finally woken, Robbie thought James had somehow known and understood.

“Thank you, sir.” There had been so much in those few simple words, and Robbie had felt something twist in his stomach as he’d nodded. It had been surprisingly hard to turn and leave.


	3. Year Three

If James had ever believed in the old saying ‘time heals all wounds’, then nearly three years of working alongside Robbie Lewis would have convinced him otherwise. 

Robbie had changed in the years they’d been partners, of course, just as James felt certain that he’d grown and changed himself. There was something almost instinctive about the way the two of them understood each other, both of them somehow knowing when to ask a question or when to stay silent and wait, and those instincts had carried over from their professional lives into their personal lives as well.

Even though he was still technically alone, James had found he was surprisingly content with his life, or as content as he felt he could be until the universe led him to his soulmate. With Robbie, for some reason, he could lower some of the protective shields he had always been so careful to keep up, and at times he felt sure he’d seen a glimpse of the other man lowering his own walls in return.

But Robbie was still grieving for his lost soulmate after all these years. Time hadn’t seemed to heal that wound even a fraction as far as James had been able to tell. Not that they ever talked about it directly, of course. Quite the opposite, in fact. They never talked about any of the important things. They’d never needed to.

He’d hoped that finding Simon Monkford might have helped Robbie start to move on with his own life, and perhaps it might yet have that effect, though James felt his friend was still too shocked by the events that had unfolded so rapidly and unexpectedly. Even seeing the man plead ‘guilty’ in court hadn’t seemed to sink in yet, nearly two weeks after they’d stood shoulder to shoulder outside the courtroom, and James knew he’d be keeping a close eye on Robbie for some time to come.

It hadn’t helped that their own relationship had been pushed almost to breaking point by the whole matter, and they were still struggling to find their way back together. Perhaps James really should have told Robbie as soon as he’d had that final confirmation from the Met. Perhaps he should have looked at everything as Robbie’s friend rather than just as his Sergeant. 

Most painfully of all, perhaps Robbie had been right when he’d snapped angrily at James in those horrible, endless minutes after finally learning the truth. 

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me then?”

The obvious agony in Robbie’s voice had felt like a dagger to James’s heart. The last thing he’d ever wanted to do was hurt his boss, but even as James tried to defend his actions he’d suddenly realised how wrong he had been to keep things from Robbie for so long. He’d clenched his right fist tightly as Robbie stared at him, feeling the familiar flex of leather over the name he kept secret and safe, letting it ground him. 

“All you’ve proved is that you don’t really know me.” The worst of Robbie’s anger had seemed to fade at that point, to be replaced by clear disappointment. Surprisingly, James had found that actually hurt worse than the anger, and that dagger had seemed to twist one last time deep in his chest as Robbie added bitterly, “And you don’t know yourself either.”

Now, looking back on the whole miserable affair, James had let himself feel that pain and realised it was just one more piece of evidence, if evidence were still needed, that Robbie could never be his _Robert_. If Robbie was meant to be his, then surely James would have known the right way to handle the whole situation, rather than making such a mess of the entire thing. 

All he could do was take it on the chin and try to find some way to move on. James wasn’t quite sure how the two of them would find a way back to their easy friendship and near-perfect working relationship, but he trusted they would get there somehow. Or perhaps there really was no way back, and all they could do was move forwards, hopefully towards a future in which Robbie might be able to find some closure now Monkford was behind bars.


	4. Year Four

There were certain times when Robbie found he missed Val the most. It was only natural, of course, to feel the gaping hole of her absence more strongly than normal on their anniversary, or her birthday, or the kids’ birthdays. But even just a long weekend away from work would sometimes leave Robbie aching with the realisation that he was alone, without the soulmate who should’ve been right there by his side.

Not that he’d spent all that much time alone lately, he’d have to admit. If he wasn’t working, then Robbie was usually with James, who seemed more than happy to spend a day off having a pint or three in The Trout or going for a game of squash with his boss. Once or twice, Robbie had even shared the highly exciting activity of a trip round Tesco with James, splitting the two-for-one deals and letting the younger man bully him into actually buying real ingredients to cook with, rather than just ‘pierce and ping’ ready meals.

This bank holiday weekend had loomed bleak and lonely for Robbie once James had announced he was off to a festival with his band, but before he’d had a chance to dwell too much on why he was so upset at the thought of James going away without him, Laura had snuck in with the suggestion of a weekend break. It had seemed like the perfect plan and Robbie had actually been looking forward to a change of scenery, when of course the universe upset all their plans with a series of murders.

After everything was sorted and they were all left to pick up the pieces of what was left of their bank holiday, Robbie ended up sitting with Laura by the riverside, the pair of them picking at their fish and chips.

“Just to stop you wondering, I booked two rooms,” Laura told him with a smirk, almost as if she knew Robbie had been getting a bit of grief from James on the subject.

“Course.” Robbie stuffed another chip in his mouth, chewing slowly as the relief flooded through his body. It had never occurred to him to ask, back when Laura had said she’d book the accommodation if Robbie took care of the tickets. He should’ve asked, obviously, should’ve made it clear that he wasn’t looking for anything more than friendship. She was lovely, and the pair of them got on well enough, but he just didn’t want anyone else in his life in that way.

“Robbie, can I show you something?” Interrupting his thoughts, Laura’s voice was soft, tentative almost, and Robbie frowned in confusion as she wrapped her remaining chips up roughly and placed them on the bench by her side. 

His heart suddenly started beating a little faster as she started to loosen her gloves, first on the left hand, then the right. Like James, Laura preferred fingerless gloves, though hers were a hard-wearing canvas rather than James’s soft black leather. 

Robbie swallowed hard as she tugged the first glove off, closing his eyes and turning his head away. “Laura, I don’t think – ” 

“Please, Robbie. Let me.” Slight rustling as Laura presumably removed her second glove, then a long pause before she added, “It’s not what you think, I promise.”

Almost reluctantly, he opened his eyes once again, turning to look into Laura’s blue eyes first. She was watching him closely, though her face was a carefully blank mask and Robbie couldn’t quite tell what she was thinking. She could have had a good career as a detective with a mask like that.

He took a deep breath and dropped his gaze to where Laura had her hands held out in front of her, palm up. Even in the soft lighting from the streetlamps, he could see immediately that both palms were spotlessly clean, pale from lack of exposure to sunlight, and completely blank.

“Oh, love,” Robbie breathed, reaching out hesitantly to take her naked hands in his gloved ones. Laura let him lift them closer, tilting them this way and that, and there could be no mistaking the fact that there was no name inscribed there. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.” Laura’s mask broke into a lopsided smile. “It’s fine. I’ve had my whole life to accept the fact, and it’s really fine. In a way, it’s quite freeing – if and when I fall in love, it will be my choice completely, not the universe telling me what to do. My life and my decisions are my own, Robbie, and they always will be.”

Despite Laura’s steady words, Robbie couldn’t imagine the pain of knowing there was no soulmate out there waiting. No perfect match, no one man or woman who was destined to love them unconditionally. Robbie might have loved and lost his own soulmate, but at least he’d always known he had one, and Val would always be his even though she was gone. Laura would never know the joy of finding the person who was meant to make her whole world brighter, and the thought nearly brought Robbie to tears on her behalf.

He closed his hands around Laura’s, squeezing them gently and feeling her squeeze back. “Thank you for showing me,” he told her, forcing a smile. “I know that can’t’ve been easy.”

“I wanted you to know. I trust you, Robbie, and I knew you wouldn’t overreact or make the mistake of telling me you felt sorry for me.” Laura leaned closer and kissed his cheek. “I booked two rooms for this weekend, for two friends going away together to enjoy some opera. Nothing more than that. No expectations, no hopes, just friendship.”

A relief, really, to know all that, and perhaps they should have had this conversation a long time ago. It meant a lot to Robbie to know that Laura trusted him enough to show him her bare palms. It also felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders to know that she didn’t bear the name of _Robert_ inscribed beneath her skin. As much as he cared for her, he didn’t know what on earth he would’ve done if Laura had shown him that. Now, perhaps, he could relax a little more into their friendship and see what might happen. 

He knew he needed to try to find ways to move on with his life. James had helped him enormously, filling Robbie’s life with an easy and undemanding friendship that he simply couldn’t imagine living without now, and Laura’s company might help him further down that path.

He wrapped one arm around Laura’s shoulders to tug her into a loose embrace. “Thanks, love. Really.”

Laura leaned into the hug for a moment, before turning piercing eyes on him. “So, anything you need to tell me?” There was a smile on her face but her words were serious. “I take it there’s no ‘Laura’ on your palm, but is there any other name there beside your wife’s?”

Robbie shook his head. “No, Laura, there’s nothing. No _Laura_ , or any other name.” He thought for a moment of taking off his gloves, showing her the same trust she had shown him, but he knew he simply couldn’t. Not here, not like this. Not with Laura, even though he’d shown James one time when they were both just a little bit drunk. James had kept his own gloves on, of course, his soulmate’s name still a mystery to Robbie even after all these years.

Laura narrowed her eyes at him slightly, seeming to study him carefully, before nodding slowly and then smiling even more widely. “Okay, then. Walk me home?”

Not quite the bank holiday Robbie had planned, of course, but far better all-round than it could have been; he certainly hadn’t been alone or lonely. Still, it was an enormous relief to get back to work properly the next morning, and to find James already in the office with a coffee and Danish waiting on Robbie’s desk. Almost like coming home.


	5. Year Five

It couldn’t just be prawns, surely. James had never felt quite so pathetically ill in his life, and it only seemed to be getting worse as the night dragged on. That couldn’t be right, couldn’t just be from prawns. But his thoughts were too scrambled now, his stomach threatening to cramp once again, and he curled himself into a tighter ball with a whimper, trying not to think too much.

The events of the afternoon flashed before his eyes, almost like a series of postcards or pictures in a slideshow. Prawns. The roof, the endless stairs. Feeling so sick, still trying to work, Robbie finally taking pity on him and sending him home.

James knew he must’ve looked pathetic for Robbie to have taken that step – in all the time the two of them had worked together, James had never gone home sick, and he’d always prided himself on never actually taking a sick day. Even after being hospitalised after the fire at the end of the Zoe Kenneth case, James had been straight back to work once they’d released him. And the gunshot wound that had seemed a more than fitting end to his miserable return to Crevecouer hadn’t slowed him down for more than a day or so.

His mind was wandering, his stomach twisting, and his lower back aching. His throat felt dry, and belatedly James realised he should perhaps have brought a glass of water through to his bedroom with him. ‘Nil by mouth’, Robbie had told him, but he shouldn’t let himself get dehydrated either, not if he was planning on getting up and going back in to work in the morning.

The kitchen seemed a very long way away, though, and the bathroom even further. James had already thrown up three times since stumbling in through his front door, then spent nearly an hour sitting on the toilet and hugging a bin as his body abandoned all semblance of control. Bloody prawns. Not that this could just be prawns. Couldn’t be, not to be this bad.

He should sleep. Let his body try to recover. He felt shaky, and both hot and cold at the same time. Seasick, almost, the room seeming to spin around him even as he lay in darkness. He wanted water, now he’d thought of it, desperately needed something to drink, but even lifting his head off the pillow made every muscle in his body cramp up and he quickly gave up on that idea with a groan.

Where was his soulmate when he needed him? Someone to check on him and bring him water, to sit with him and soothe him until his strength returned. 

He knew, of course, that some people never found their soulmates, settling for a love they chose rather than one the universe had chosen for them. And there were those who thought they had found their perfect match, both of them with the other’s name on their palm, though they were each truly destined for someone else. And there were even instances where one partner was blank, hiding it from their husband or wife. He felt he’d seen it all now, after so much misery and death.

Hazily James wondered what the time was. It had been barely half eight when he’d dragged himself into bed after forcing himself to take a quick shower, though it felt like he’d been lying here alone for hours. 

He lay quietly, listening to the sounds of the night. The occasional car passing by, a pair of cats yowling at each other. A clanging of bins, perhaps a fox searching for dinner. A click, almost like a key turning, a door closing, and the sound of footsteps in his hallway.

James frowned, forcing his eyes open, listening harder. Perhaps he was feverish, though he felt chilled to the bone. Had he heard footsteps? Most likely it was just wishful thinking; he couldn’t conjure up his soulmate just by begging the universe, surely.

“James?” Barely more than a whisper, but he’d know that voice anywhere. “You awake?”

“Sir?” 

More soft footsteps, then the mattress dipped as his boss sat carefully beside him. “Sorry if I woke you, lad. I used my emergency key. You had me a bit worried earlier, and I thought I’d better check on you after I sent you a text and you never replied. Felt like you might need someone.”

“What time is it?” James managed to get out.

“It’s just gone nine.”

Only nine? Felt like he’d been lying there for hours, and James hadn’t even heard his phone go off, which was far more worrying. He tried to sit up again but in the same instant his bedside lamp flared to life, and he buried his face in the pillow with a groan instead. “Sir…”

“Sorry.” A gloved hand stroked gently over his forehead and back through his hair. “I take it you’re not feeling any better?”

“Feel like shit,” he croaked, earning a deep chuckle from the older man.

“Aye, I bet you do. Stomach still cramping?” James nodded once, hating himself for letting out a whimper when the stroking hand moved away and Robbie stood up. “I’ll be right back, lad. I’m not leaving you.”

Time seemed to lose all meaning, and just when James was half-convinced he’d dreamed his boss turning up in his flat out of nowhere, Robbie suddenly reappeared. James watched blearily as the older man set an empty bucket on the floor then placed a glass of water on the bedside table. “You don’t have to do this, sir,” he mumbled, though he was really so grateful his friend had come. “Really not in the DI’s job description, this.”

“You’re a daft sod, James, you really are. We’re hardly just DI and bagman now, are we?” Robbie sat back down next to James, something odd and lumpy in his hands. “Hot water bottle,” he explained when James frowned. “Thought it might help.”

James thought he could forgive himself for the relieved sigh that slipped from his lips as he let Robbie reach beneath the blankets and settle it against his aching belly, the heat helping almost immediately. He allowed the older man to help him sit up just enough to sip slowly from the glass of water, before sinking back into the pillows as Robbie pulled his covers up high and bunched them gently around his neck.

“Thank you,” he whispered, feeling strangely close to tears just at the sheer fact that someone was there with him. Robbie was there. His Robbie. No. Not his Robbie. “Thank you, sir.”

That stroking hand was back on his head again, and James shuffled forwards just a fraction until he could press his forehead against Robbie’s strong thigh. Perhaps, just this once, he could pretend that Robbie was really his Robert. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter so much, with James sick like this. 

It suddenly seemed important that Robbie knew what was written on James’s palm, and he struggled weakly beneath the blankets, trying to pull his hands free. He’d taken off his gloves before climbing into the shower and hadn’t bothered pulling them back on – it would be easy to just show Robbie quickly, not out of any expectation but just because it felt wrong that he didn’t know. Robbie probably wouldn’t sit here with James like this if he knew. 

But Robbie somehow sensed exactly what James was thinking, and he gently placed a hand on James’s, keeping it in place under the covers. With his other hand, Robbie pulled James a little closer to him and started to rub gentle circles on James’s upper back, soothing him and stilling him easily. “Not like this, James. Not when you’re ill and exhausted. If you still want to tomorrow, then I’d be honoured. But not right now, okay?”

“Okay,” James whispered, giving up his struggles and finally feeling as if he could fall asleep at long last. “You don’t have to stay, sir, really. I’m fine.”

“Go to sleep now. I’m going nowhere.” James felt the bed shift once more as Robbie rose and walked to the other side, stretching out on top of the covers. James felt relief settle deep in his bones at knowing he wasn’t going to be alone after all. “I’ll be right here if you need anything, and you’ll feel better in the morning.” 

They woke up side by side in James’s bed the next day, and James found he did indeed feel better, clearheaded once more, even though he was still quite weak and shaky. Apart from a murmured ‘thanks’ and ‘you’re welcome’, neither of them said a single word about the night they had shared, nor about James’s aborted attempt to show Robbie his hand. It didn’t seem like such a good idea, somehow, in the cold light of day, and their current case continued to unfold rapidly around them, pushing such thoughts far away.

And when that case was finally concluded, after they had both stared down the barrel of a gun wielded by a desperate man, James found himself thinking sadly that it had all worked out for the best. The prawns were innocent, as he’d suspected, and the secrets in the Suskin family had all been brought violently and painfully to light. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if Conlan Doheny and Mary Keane had been two soulmates who never got their chance at happiness. And he wondered, too, if he would ever get his own.


	6. Year Six

He’d never seen James quite like this, so flustered around a lass. Liv did seem nice, from the little Robbie had talked to her; she was clearly well-educated, with pretty eyes and a nice enough figure, too. Not that Robbie had really been looking. His sergeant had clearly taken a liking to her from the first moment they met, though, and it was with a strange feeling of abandonment that Robbie watched from afar as the two of them talked.

This wasn’t anything like the way he’d seen James act around women before. It certainly wasn’t the way James had been when he was with Fiona all those years back, not that he’d told Robbie he was even seeing anyone at the time, of course. And that had hurt, just a little. 

He’d thought they were close enough friends that James might’ve said something. And he’d been a bit annoyed at himself, too. He should’ve noticed that James was dating someone, though he’d understood why the two of them might have wanted to keep it quiet around the station. Still, as soon as he had known, Robbie had felt strangely certain that Fiona wasn’t to be James’s soulmate. If she had been, Robbie would have known somehow. Would’ve seen it on James’s face. 

Watching the lad now, chatting away awkwardly to this pretty young botanist, gloved hands buried deep in his pockets, Robbie found himself wondering if this could be the real thing. 

There was definitely a spark between them, and James needed a partner, more than anyone Robbie had ever met. It was strange, though, the thought of James possibly finding his soulmate at last. Leaving Robbie behind, when they spent so much of their time together. Robbie wanted his friend to be happy, yet the thought of him being happy with this Liv made him feel odd, and slightly uneasy, somewhere deep in his stomach.

Not that he had any idea quite why he felt that way. He should be pleased for James, surely, rather than thinking about himself.

Perhaps he’d grown too reliant on James’s company, when he really should have been pushing the younger man to go out with friends his own age. Had Robbie been holding James back all these years?

He wondered again just what the name written on his friend’s palm might be. He’d never asked, and James had never offered to show him again after that one night when he’d been so sick with arsenic poisoning. Could there be a ‘Liv’ inscribed there, or possibly an ‘Olivia’? 

Robbie shook himself slightly, noticing James writing something in his notebook as he talked to Liv, the blush visible on his friend’s cheeks even from this distance. What the hell was Robbie doing, thinking about James’s soulmate? None of his business, surely, except for the fact that he wanted desperately to see the younger man settled and partnered up with someone who would understand what he needed.

James didn’t need to be coddled or protected, though Robbie had always imagined his friend’s soulmate might be a bit older, more worldly perhaps. He’d always pictured James with a man, too, despite the younger man’s evasion of the subject during the Will McEwan mess. Maybe he’d been wrong about that, and James actually needed a younger woman to pull him out of himself.

Whoever James’s soulmate turned out to be, Robbie felt they’d need to understand when to leave the man alone, and also understand when to push him and prod him out of the depths of his own cavernous mind. They’d need to understand that James didn’t always want to talk about what was going on in his head, though that didn’t change the fact that sometimes he needed to talk about it regardless. Could this girl do that for his James?

Standing by the river, his own hands buried deep in his pockets, Robbie watched as James appeared to laugh awkwardly at something Liv said, pulling a picture from his jacket pocket and holding it out. Ah yes, there was a case to be solved here, of course, not just a young man nervously chatting to a pretty young lass. 

Definitely nervous, Robbie thought with a smile as James waved his hands around strangely. And then, to cap it all off, James actually bowed to the poor girl, his long neck bent and his back stiff. Robbie was quite impressed that Liv actually managed to bob an elegant curtsey in return rather than laughing out loud at his awkward sod. 

In the next moment, James was striding rapidly across the gardens towards Robbie, a look of utter mortification on his face. He didn’t slow down even a fraction as he came closer, though he did send a quick glance back over his shoulder.

“Did you just bow to her?” Robbie asked, trying hard not to smile, as James reached him.

James didn’t miss a step as he kept right on going, turning quickly to keep walking along the river path. “Yeah. I think I did.” To Robbie’s ears he sounded slightly stunned, and almost certainly a little embarrassed, and for once he didn’t even slow to let Robbie fall in step by his side as he always did.

Robbie shook his head in bemusement as he followed on behind, letting James put those long legs of his to good use. He’d really never seen the lad quite so flustered, and it shouldn’t be quite as amusing or as painful as it was. Could this Liv really be the one for James? 

And if she was, then why did that feel so wrong to Robbie?


	7. Year Seven

He’d turned his back for five minutes and look what had happened. James knew it was all far more complicated than that, of course, but that was how it felt to him. Five minutes. And he’d come home to find Robbie and Laura were now officially ‘together’.

He knew he had no right to feel anything but happiness for his friends, both of whom had been alone for so long, but that didn’t stop it hurting. 

That short week away had hardly turned out to be much of a holiday in the end, working as hard as he had done at the orphanage even before Robbie had drafted him back to work from the other side of Europe. His heart had skipped a beat when he’d realised who was calling him – he’d been missing Robbie badly, even though they’d only been apart for a couple of days at that point.

An important couple of days in which Robbie had finally decided he was ready to move on with his life. James knew it was really none of his business whether Robbie and Laura were ‘just good friends’ or something more – he’d even told Robbie as much, in the past – but it did feel as if the two of them had waited until he was out of the country before they took the next step. That just made James feel as if perhaps he’d been holding Robbie back all these years, spending most of their free time together the way they always had done.

Perhaps, if James hadn’t needed so desperately to stay close to Robbie in some way, then the older man would have found his way to Laura before now. He’d sensed his friend had finally begun to accept the loss of his soulmate; there was just something in the way Robbie stood and the way he talked, something that suggested a weight had been lifted at last. 

James had been thrilled to see his friend finally looking happy again. He’d also been quietly hoping that maybe, just maybe, Robbie might be one of the lucky ones who had a second soulmate waiting for them – Robbie was such a special man, so kind and caring, that it just seemed wrong for him to face the rest of his life alone.

Not that James would have let Robbie be alone, not for a second. If Robbie had been willing, James would have given him everything, and never dared to ask for anything in return.

But when James had returned from Kosovo, he’d found Robbie most definitely wasn’t alone any more. From the surprised look on Jean Innocent’s face when Laura wrapped her arms around Robbie’s shoulders in the pub and pulled him into a deep kiss, the two of them hadn’t been together for long because nothing that went on in the station escaped Innocent’s attention. James had even caught her looking at him and Robbie with a question in her eyes from time to time. 

James had felt that kiss almost like a bullet to the stomach. “I turn my back for five minutes…” he’d commented, burying the need for further speech by taking a long sip from his pint, and by the time the happy couple returned from the bar, James had managed to pull a careful mask over his emotions. 

The four of them had talked and laughed, with Robbie’s quiet delight and Laura’s sheer joy clear to see, and James had regaled them all with tales from his ‘holiday’ until finally it felt as if enough time had passed and he could make a polite exit, pleading exhaustion after so many hours travelling.

It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. Every time he saw the two of them together now, he felt slightly sick, and he hated himself for it. It wasn’t meant to be like this. 

Or maybe it was. For some reason, James felt sure Robbie and Laura weren’t soulmates, but he couldn’t deny the fact that they did seem truly happy together. Wasn’t that what he’d wanted for his friend for a long, long time?

James had told himself time and again that Robbie would never be his _Robert_ , but he couldn’t lie to himself and say he hadn’t still kept a tiny candle of hope alight for all these years. Now it was time to finally give up and move on, once and for all. Perhaps it was even time to take out one of those damned personal ads or venture into the unappealing world of online dating. ‘James searching for his Robert’ – even the thought of it made his chest feel tight.

It was one little thing on top of a lot of other little things, and as more time passed by James found he was barely able to keep from showing just how much he was struggling with everything. It wasn’t just Robbie and Laura, though they weren’t exactly helping.

‘Existential flu’, James had called it once, but it felt like more than that this time, as if every worry and concern and fear he’d battled for years had suddenly attacked at full force.

So much pain and misery in the world, and so much hate. He’d always prided himself on thinking that people were inherently good – that was one of the many reasons he’d once considered becoming a priest and the main reason he had joined the police force. 

But the longer he did the job, the more inhumanity he saw, and there was so much misery he sometimes wanted to weep when he crawled into his bed at night. He just didn’t know what to think anymore, or what to feel. He no longer thought the best of people; when had that changed?

James desperately wanted to talk to Robbie about everything that was churning in his head, but when they weren’t at work Robbie was nearly always with Laura. Gone were the wonderful nights the two of them had spent at the pub or collapsed side by side on the older man’s sagging couch with a beer and a curry. They still spent time together, but either Laura was there too or Robbie would cut their evening short to go join her somewhere else. There wasn’t time for big, meaningful conversations.

Not that they’d ever had big, meaningful conversations, not even once. They’d always just known how the other was feeling, and somehow James couldn’t help feeling a little bit hurt that Robbie couldn’t see how much he was sinking beneath the weight of all his doubts, even though James had been doing his best to hide it.

Adam Tibitt was the final straw, and as soon as James realised what he had done to the boy and what he had to do next, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest and he could breathe freely at last. It was the only decision, the only possible solution. It would give him the time and space he needed to clear his head, to try to make peace with his failings and his guilt, and the chance to figure out what on earth his next steps should be.

It would also give him time and space away from Robbie, which James couldn’t help but feel he needed, in spite of how much he loved spending time with his friend. The pain of seeing Robbie with Laura would hopefully fade as he took stock of everything he’d done, and failed to do, during his time as Robbie’s DS. 

All the pain and misery he’d seen, all the people he couldn’t save, all the broken hearts and liars and cheats – it all flashed before his eyes as he stood on a bridge with Robbie and finally spoke the words he had needed to say for a long time. The words that, he hoped, would start him down a new road in his life, perhaps even a road where he might find his _Robert_ waiting for him at long last. 

“I need a change.”


	8. Year Eight

Robbie knew there were things between him and Laura that needed to be said: things he’d felt for a while now but hadn’t known how to share. It was hard to know where to begin, and the last thing he’d ever wanted to do was to hurt Laura, not after everything they’d been through together.

It had been building for the past few months, probably since Robbie had taken that phone call from Jean Innocent asking if he would consider going back to work. He’d realised pretty quickly that retirement hadn’t suited him, and Laura had realised it too, though she’d tried her hardest to encourage him in the few ‘hobbies’ he’d tried.

Going back to work had felt almost like going home again, and Robbie genuinely hadn’t realised how much he’d missed the job until he’d been back in the thick of things with James right by his side where he belonged. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed James, for that matter, and perhaps that had been the real starting point.

James resigning all those months back had been an awful shock at first. Robbie had never suspected quite how much guilt and confusion James had been carrying over the job, and just how difficult he’d been finding it all. Robbie had blamed himself a bit, too, for not spending as much time with the younger man as he should’ve done, and for not asking.

Still, that was all in the past, thank goodness. James had been convinced to take a sabbatical rather than leaving the force completely, three months away which had brought the lad back to them in a whole new frame of mind. During those months, Robbie had moved in with Laura, and the resultant chaos of combining their lives had left him little time to ponder just how much he had missed James’s presence by his side, though his absence had been like an itch in the back of Robbie’s mind the entire time.

Being back at work and spending time with James again was like breathing pure oxygen after having nothing but stale air, and after a slightly rocky start, Robbie was pleased that the two of them had quickly settled back into their easy and close friendship. At work, they played off each other as instinctively as ever, and outside of the office, the bond they had shared since the day they met seemed as strong as always. 

With everything that had been going on with his job, and given the fact that he was spending increasingly large amounts of time with James outside of work once again, Robbie had to accept that perhaps he hadn’t been focussing on his relationship with Laura as much as he should have been. 

But then again, perhaps his doubts about their relationship had only really begun to surface when Lizzie Maddox had been attacked. Seeing the way her Tony had reacted, and seeing the overwhelming love and unbreakable bond the two soulmates shared, perhaps that had forced Robbie to question whether what he felt for Laura was really enough to base a relationship on.

Whenever the doubts had started, and wherever they might lead, he knew they had to have the conversation sooner rather than later. He just didn’t have the first clue where to begin. But Laura, as always, seemed to be several steps ahead of him, and when Robbie got home one afternoon he found her sitting at their table with a glass of wine in one gloved hand.

Waiting for him, he realised immediately, and Robbie felt his heart sink as he slowly pulled out a chair and sat opposite.

“We need to talk,” Laura began slowly, her voice sounding far too loud in their quiet kitchen.

“I take it this isn’t ‘we need to talk because you put the empty milk bottle back in the fridge’?” Robbie tried to keep the atmosphere light, stalling for time, though in a way it was a relief to finally start talking. He clearly wasn’t the only one who needed this. 

“No, it’s not. Even though you did. You always do.” Robbie watched as Laura took a sip from her glass. “I think you know what I have to say. At least, I hope you do. I don’t think it’s just me, is it?” 

He shook his head, sighed. “It’s not just you, love, no. This isn’t really working any more, is it? Not in the way we both want.”

Laura smiled at him gratefully. “That’s it exactly,” she murmured. “Not in the way we want. Not the way I want, certainly.”

“You want some spark and fire. Some passion and romance.” Robbie took a guess at Laura’s reasoning, and judging by the way she bit at her lower lip, he was right. “And I want that too, though I didn’t think I ever would again.” 

“But we’re not finding that with each other, are we? I just don’t feel that way about you, though I wish I did. And you don’t feel that way about me, either.” It wasn’t a question, but Robbie chose to answer it regardless.

“No, I don’t, Laura. I’m sorry. I do love you, but for me this relationship has become cosy and comfortable. I’m not unhappy, but I can’t help feel there might be something more out there for both of us.” After Val, he’d thought ‘comfortable’ would be fine. It wasn’t.

That was the first time he’d ever actually put the thought into words, though, and for a moment Robbie felt the room shift dizzyingly around him. But Laura, bless her, took his statement in stride and simply nodded. “I love you too, Robbie, and I think a part of me always will, but I honestly think we worked better as friends.”

“So there goes my hopes of us being ‘friends with benefits’.” It was a terrible, appalling attempt at a joke, and Robbie winced the moment the words left his lips. “Sorry. Nerves.”

“Forgiven.” Laura reached across the table and took his hand in hers. “So, are we agreed?”

“Agreed,” he told her quietly, and it felt almost as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Back to just being friends.”

“We were never ‘just’ friends, Robbie. Friends forever. We’ll be okay.” 

With a slightly watery smile, Laura let go, and it felt to Robbie almost as if whatever ties had been keeping them together had also broken in that moment. Their lives were so intertwined that he honestly wasn’t sure what would happen next, but in the end, all they could do was move forwards, and see what the universe might bring them.

“I’ll pack a bag,” he offered, running one hand through his thinning hair. “I can stay at a hotel for a few days, or crash on James’s sofa if he’ll have me.”

It might have been his imagination, but something unreadable passed over Laura’s face at the mention of his friend’s name. “Don’t be silly. There’s a spare room here; I’d like to think we can be grown-ups about this until you find a new place. Unless… if you’d rather go to James’s, I’d understand.”

Robbie would move out, of course – the house was in Laura’s name alone, as it had made the mortgage simpler due to Robbie’s retirement and their unmarried status – and for a moment he gave Laura’s generous offer serious consideration. They could be grown-ups, surely, and hopefully it wouldn’t take him more than a week or so to find somewhere new to rent.

But suddenly Robbie just knew he needed to be with James. Not to talk, though of course he’d have to explain exactly why he was standing on his friend’s doorstep with an overnight bag and a suit carrier. He needed that calm and quiet presence, needed to be with someone who asked him for nothing and expected nothing. Needed to sit side by side with the younger man and drink a beer or three. Needed to rest his head on James’s shoulder, perhaps, and think about how to face his life as a single man once again.

No way to explain all of that to Laura and not sound crazy; Robbie felt she’d never really understood the bond between him and James, although she’d always accepted it without question. “I think I should go,” he told her as gently as he could, and Laura just sighed, looking sad for the first time.

“Robbie… I’ve never asked since that night all those years ago, and I know I have no right to ask now that this is over between us, but is there another name written on your hand? I’ve never looked, and you’ve never shown me. Is there someone else waiting for you? Another soulmate out there, somewhere?” 

Had he really never shown her? Robbie was still as strict as he’d always been about keeping his gloves on, only taking them off when he washed or went to bed. Thinking about it now, it actually was entirely possible Laura had never seen – when they were in bed, they were either sleeping or making love. No one had ever looked at Robbie’s naked palms since he was a boy, except for Val. And James, that one time. 

Wordlessly, Robbie worked his right glove off and held out his hand to Laura, palm up. “There never was another name, love. But I think, one day, there could be.”

Just beneath Val’s name, there was an undeniable shadow forming on his palm. He’d spent the last few weeks staring at it for hours at a time, though there were no clear letters forming there yet. No hints or clues as to who might be waiting out there for him. Only that someone was.

A second soulmate – the thought was incredible and breath-taking. Robbie had never known he could even want that, but now it was nearly all he could think about.

To his surprise, Laura smiled, reaching out and brushing her index finger along the inky smudge beneath Val’s name. It seemed so much clearer in the light of day, and Robbie shivered at her gentle touch, barely resisting the impulse to pull his hand back to safety, forcing himself to let her look. He owed her this much.

“I’m glad, Robbie.” Laura suddenly leaned over the table and kissed his cheek. “Really, I am.”

Robbie had to clear his throat before he could speak, feeling choked up all of a sudden. “What about you then?” he asked. “Anyone new on the horizon?” 

“I don’t think I’m quite ready to talk about my future romantic prospects with you, Robert Lewis. But maybe, yes.” Robbie knew for a fact that Laura had been back in contact with her Franco, and she’d also been getting along pretty well with the new oboe player in her orchestra. Thinking about it now, surely all that should’ve made him jealous. It hadn’t.

It wouldn’t be easy from here on, of course. Break-ups never were, but as he and Laura sat holding hands and smiling at each other across the table, Robbie truly felt it had all worked out for the best.


	9. Year Nine

Feeling strangely numb, James let himself be pulled away from the scene of the crash and guided back towards Robbie’s car. Everything felt slightly surreal, the early evening light and the setting sun casting the whole scene in eerie shades of grey, and he realised distantly that he was almost certainly suffering from mild shock.

“Come with me, lad.” Robbie’s voice was gentle in his ear, his hands strong and sure as he led James away. “You’re okay. She’s in good hands now; Lizzie’s with her, and the ambulance is coming.” Glancing back over his shoulder, James could see his sergeant kneeling over the driver, who seemed to be stirring awake at last, and sure enough the distant sound of sirens was growing closer. 

A hundred metres away, the burning wreckage of Sally Matthews' car lay on its side, partially wrapped around a tree. They had needed Sally to make a formal witness statement back at the station, and as she was unfamiliar with Oxford, James had offered to ride with her, trying to keep her talking as he'd sensed she was nervous. 

They’d been discussing a shared interest in music when Sally had suddenly and dramatically lost control of her car. After that, everything had happened quickly, and James had barely had time to wonder if the brakes had been cut before they’d left the road. When the car had finally rolled to a stop, he’d immediately smelled petrol and smoke, and he’d acted almost on instinct as he somehow dragged the unconscious girl out of her car and away before it had gone up in flames.

Thankfully, Robbie and Lizzie had been close behind them. There was nothing more James could do for Sally now, so he simply trusted Robbie to take care of him as he always did, allowing the older man to push him gently down to sit in the back seat of his car. “Robbie…” he started, though he had no idea what he wanted to say or to ask. Just saying his friend’s name was comfort enough. “Robbie…”

Nearly a year they’d been sharing a flat now, a year which had cemented their already-close friendship and their undeniable bond. Robbie had first come to stay with James after his surprisingly amicable break-up with Laura, intending to look for a place of his own, but as the weeks then months passed by, he had simply stayed put in James’s tiny box of a spare room. When the lease on the place had run out six months ago, the two of them had immediately started looking for a new place together, no discussions necessary.

“Hush, man. Let’s get this off you, get you more comfortable. You’re all smoky.” Those strong hands loosened James’s tie and undid the top button of his shirt, then helped him slide out of his filthy jacket. Almost immediately, James found he could breathe a little easier – until that moment, he hadn’t realised his chest had felt so tight – and Robbie moved closer in front of him to block out the sight of the burning car. “What’ve you done to yourself here, then?”

“What?” Glancing down, James watched as Robbie carefully undid the button at his right wrist, rolling the shirt sleeve up towards his elbow. The wrist beneath was already turning black and blue, and visibly swelling up. “Oh. Doesn’t hurt.”

“It will do shortly, I’ll bet. Easy does it.” Robbie was trying to sound casual and calming, though James could practically feel the older man’s worry radiating between them. “Sprained, probably, though I’m sure they’ll want to do an x-ray just to check. Are you hurt anywhere else? Did you hit your head at all?” 

Shaking his head, James could feel his thoughts drifting wildly as an ambulance wailed up, but Robbie’s solid presence kneeling in front of him was both an anchor and a comfort. He blinked hazily at the older man’s greying hair and the pronounced laughter lines around his mouth and eyes, creased now in worry rather than happiness, and saw only the handsome man Robbie still was and always would be to him. 

It had never occurred to him to question why Robbie would want to keep on living with him rather than finding a place of his own, but James was selfishly glad of it, and he dreaded the day the other man might feel the need to move on.

James would never want to move on; he’d accepted that quite some time ago. It didn’t matter anymore if Robbie was really meant to be his soulmate or not – deep down, James felt there was no way he could be any happier with any other _Robert_ now. The bond the two of them shared was simply too strong, and James would happily stay by Robbie’s side for the rest of his life if he could.

Steady fingers started working at the button holding his right glove on, and James tried to pull his hand away suddenly as he realised exactly what Robbie was doing. “No, don’t,” he begged, trying to get his arm free, hissing as the first faint flash of pain shot through him. “Leave it, Robbie, please.”

“The paramedics will only have to cut it off otherwise,” Robbie pointed out, and at the rate his wrist was swelling up, James had to concede that was probably true. “Just relax, man. Let me do all the work.”

The pain grew worse as the older man tugged at the soft black leather, and James let himself lean forwards slightly, dropping his head to rest on Robbie’s shoulder when his glove finally slipped free. “Robbie…” he breathed again, a tiny whimper escaping his lips as the injured limb was shifted to rest in his lap, the evening air feeling cold on skin that rarely saw the light of day.

Later, James would blame the shock of the crash for not realising sooner that his hand lay palm up. His right hand, the hand that bore the name he had carefully kept hidden from Robbie for nearly nine years. Robbie suddenly gasped, raising one hand to cup the back of James’s head in a surprisingly tender gesture, keeping him close and refusing to let him pull away.

“James?” The question was barely more than a whisper, Robbie’s voice hesitant and unsure as he continued, “What is that? Has that always been – Of course it has, what am I saying? Oh, James. Why didn’t you tell me?”

And all James could do was curl closer and squeeze his eyes closed, fighting back the tears as Robbie reached out with shaking fingers to gently touch his own name, written there on James’s palm. 

* * *

It should have been the most terrible shock, but Robbie found all he could think was how much sense everything suddenly made. Seeing the name on James’s palm for the very first time, his own name inscribed there so clearly on pale, soft skin – it felt right, it felt perfect, and all the disjointed pieces of his life finally seemed to be slipping into place at last. 

Everything he’d been through since losing Val, the drinking and the secondment and coming home. The easy connection he’d felt with James from the very first moment they’d met, the feeling that they simply understood each other without the need for words. The sense that there was someone out there waiting for him, once he had finally let Val go. Not wanting to move out of the flat the two of them shared and missing James so strongly when they were apart for more than a day or so.

All these years and he’d never even suspected. How was it possible that he hadn’t known, when it suddenly seemed so obvious? 

But James was shaking slightly by his side, shivering in the evening breeze, and Robbie knew he should really pull away and call a paramedic over to tend to the man. A quick glance over his shoulder showed they were all busy taking care of the woman James had saved, though Lizzie was standing and watching the pair of them from a distance with a worried frown on her face. She was protective of her governor, and Robbie offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and a nod before turning his attention back to his James.

_His_ James – how strange that felt, but how right.

“How could I ever tell you?” The faint whisper caught Robbie off-guard, and he leaned a little closer, letting his forehead rest on James’s soft blond hair. “You aren’t _my_ Robert, are you? You never have been, though I wish you could be. I want you to be him, so badly. I feel like you could be mine; I feel like I’m already yours…” A shaky gasp that could have been a sob. “I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position. It doesn’t matter, really it doesn’t.”

“Oh James.” The new name forming on Robbie’s own palm was still frustratingly blurred and indistinct, even almost a year after he’d first noticed the inky shadow on his skin, but it was suddenly clear what it would say. There was only one thing it could possibly say. “My bonny lad. Let me show you something.”

He found he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go of James entirely, though, so Robbie kept his hand resting on the back of the younger man’s head as he brought his other hand up, catching a finger of his glove in his teeth and tugging until his own palm was laid bare. 

James shifted against him suddenly, freeing his uninjured arm and cautiously pulling Robbie’s naked hand closer, examining the newly-exposed skin in the dusky evening light. “You are one of the lucky ones, then,” he breathed, almost in wonder, rubbing a thumb gently over Val’s name first, then tentatively touching the blurred name forming beneath. “I’d hoped you would be. I wanted you to have a second soulmate. I didn’t want you to be alone, you’re too special for that, and I wanted…”

But James’s mumbled words were lost to Robbie as the sound of his heart suddenly beating faster filled his ears and drowned out the rest of the world entirely. His whole hand felt as if it were burning from the inside out, the sour tang of adrenaline filling his mouth as his chest tightened and oxygen seemed hard to come by. 

The burning seemed to intensify, but it didn’t hurt, strangely. It was a cleansing, purifying fire, a fire that promised a new start and a second chance at happiness. 

Perhaps James felt something too, his own first chance at a true love, at finding his soulmate after so many years of waiting. Robbie realised he could never begin to understand what the younger man had been through – had James felt their connection all this time, in the same way Robbie had, but with that deeper knowledge and hope that perhaps Robbie was meant to be his _Robert_? 

What pain had Robbie unknowingly caused to his second soulmate, all these long years, and how could he ever hope to make it up to the younger man?

There would be time later for questions and talking, and for apologies, if any were truly needed. James suddenly stiffened against Robbie’s side with a gasp and lifted his head, pulling his good hand away as if he too had been burned. There, written clearly on Robbie’s palm beneath _Valerie_ , was a new name, in clear black script.

_James_. 

And just as his James turned to him with a blinding smile and shining blue-grey eyes, Lizzie’s voice suddenly reminded them both of exactly where they were, real life crashing back down around them. “Sirs? Is everything okay?”

Robbie found he had to clear his throat before he could find his voice. “This one could use a medic, if there’s one free,” he told James’s DS reluctantly, even though he couldn’t tear his eyes away from James. “His wrist’s blown up like a balloon, and I think he’s a little shocky. Could use a blanket.”

“I’ll get someone right over.” Lizzie was clearly already moving away as she called back, “She’s going to be fine, Sir. You did really well. Hang in there.” 

“Don’t want a blanket,” James grumbled, dropping his head back down to rest against Robbie’s neck. Warm lips pressed a soft kiss to his pulse point, unseen to anyone who might be watching, and it was suddenly all Robbie could do to stop himself hauling the younger man up for a real kiss, to solidify their bond once and for all.

Robbie gently covered James’s naked palm with his own, their two matching names touching for the very first time. “Tough,” he said as firmly as he could, knowing he’d made the right decision when the younger man started to shiver once again. “There’ll be time later, James, once you’re all patched up and back home with me. All the time in the world. Just a little more waiting, then I’m all yours, and you’re all mine.”

“’Mine’. Really?” There was such wonder mixed with the pain in James’s voice that Robbie felt his heart might burst with the joy of it all. 

“Really.” Taking a chance, Robbie pressed a quick kiss to James’s clammy forehead, even as he could hear Lizzie coming closer, talking rapidly to one of the paramedics. “Soon, love,” he whispered as he helped James sit up and moved reluctantly away, forcing himself to let others take care of his soulmate for now.

His soulmate. His James. Robbie couldn’t help but shake his head in amazement – what had he done in his life to deserve being so incredibly lucky? First Valerie, who had been his everything, and now James, who had waited so patiently and understood him so well. 

They’d have the rest of their lives together to figure things out, of course, and Robbie quickly tugged his glove back on, forcing himself to focus. It was nobody’s business but their own for now, and he had a crash scene to take care of. James was in safe hands, and Robbie turned away to take charge of everything else.


	10. Year Ten

James silenced the alarm clock and rolled immediately over onto his side, his heart doing that familiar little flip it did every morning as he came fully awake and aware of the wonderful reality that was his life now. Robbie Lewis lay in the bed by his side, grumbling low in his chest as he started the slow climb towards wakefulness, all soft and warm from sleep, hair beautifully rumpled and cheek creased from the pillows. It was a sight that never failed to make James smile. Particularly on this one special morning.

He waited until Robbie cracked one bleary eye open before leaning closer and kissing the nearest cheek. “Good morning,” he murmured quietly, dropping another kiss on a creased brow before leaning back slightly onto his own pillows, watching fondly as the other man came slowly awake. James had delighted in the surprising discovery that Robbie was most definitely not a morning person.

A jaw-splitting yawn and another low groan, before Robbie finally blinked both eyes open and managed to smile over at James. “Morning, love.” Robbie’s voice was gravelly with sleep and he coughed once to clear his throat, licking his lips. “Sleep well?”

James smiled. “I did indeed.” He paused, wondering if Robbie might possibly have remembered, though he didn’t expect it. After nearly a minute had passed, he found he couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Happy anniversary, Robert.”

Sure enough, there came the worried frown and the rapid blinking James had predicted, as the older man frantically tried to work out what he might have forgotten. With a fair bit of effort, Robbie pulled his hand out from beneath the quilt, reaching across to where James’s left hand rested on top of the covers, and touched the shining ring he wore so proudly on his third finger. 

“Four weeks, three days and… about sixteen hours?” Robbie asked hesitantly, sounding wide awake now.

“Impressive maths for this time of the morning, love, but no.” James didn’t want to worry his husband and soulmate, but sometimes it was fun to play games with Robbie. Just for a little while. “Further back than that.” 

“Hmm. How about, ten months, twenty two days and twelve hours, give or take a few minutes?” Robbie squeezed James’s hand tightly in his own as he rolled closer, the hand still beneath the covers suddenly sneaking beneath James’s body and coming to rest possessively on his lower back. 

He couldn’t help but correct the other man even as he shifted around in the bed to move closer into the intimate touch; Robbie had forgotten the leap year in his quick show of mental arithmetic. “Ten months and twenty three days, not twenty two.” Face to face now, James leaned closer to kiss Robbie firmly on the lips, morning breath be damned, as he remembered the sheer joy of their first night together, him with his wrist in a heavy cast and Robbie treating him like precious, yet fragile, glass the entire time. “A bit further back still.”

Robbie kissed him again, barely more than a chaste peck, then frowned. “James, love, I don’t know. I’m sorry. What’ve I – ?”

“Ten years, Robbie. Ten years ago today.”

James could see the very moment when realisation dawned in his soulmate’s bright blue eyes, and he quickly leaned in to press his lips to Robbie’s again. He moved closer beneath the covers as the kiss deepened, until he could roll the other man onto his back and crawl on top, resting his weight on his forearms and tangling his fingers in Robbie’s hair. 

“I didn’t expect you to remember,” he whispered reassuringly when they finally broke the kiss, both of them slightly breathless. “It wasn’t a happy day for you, I know that. Coming home to a life without her. Without your Val.”

Beneath him, Robbie nodded slowly, though he was smiling at the same time. “Finding you waiting for me was the best thing I could’ve ever hoped for when I agreed to come back. Took me a long time to realise that you were literally waiting for me, though. Too long, maybe.”

“No.” James lifted Robbie’s right hand to his lips, softly kissing first Val’s name then his own. “You weren’t mine back then. You couldn’t be mine, but you are now.”

“And you’re mine.” Robbie’s eyes grew dark as James let his lips linger on the naked skin of Robbie’s palm, the tip of his tongue sneaking out to steal a taste. There was something so intimate in this act, in touching what few others had ever even seen, and Robbie growled, “James, love, you keep doing that and we’ll never make it to work.”

“Maybe I don’t want to make it to work today,” he murmured with his lips still pressed against soft, pale skin, while Robbie laughed softly. “Maybe I want to stay in bed all day with my handsome soulmate.”

If ever the phone was going to ring with a call-out, it would’ve been at that exact moment, but to James’s delight the only sounds to be heard were the faint twittering of birds outside the window, and the even more distant noise of the morning traffic starting up. He leaned down and kissed Robbie again and again, sliding one hand back into his husband’s hair even as strong arms slid around his waist, pulling their bodies flush against each other.

James could practically feel Robbie’s happiness, a crystal clear echo of his own. Their connection had always been strong, since their first days together, yet every day he was surprised and amazed to find they were even more closely in tune than ever before.

They weren’t two halves of the same soul; how could they be, when Robbie had already loved and tragically lost his Val? But perhaps their souls were absolutely complimentary in some way only the universe could understand. James felt that they made each other better, somehow, and stronger, too. They were both so very lucky to have found each other.

As tempting as it was to laze the day away in each other’s arms, they were both good coppers and any anniversary celebrations would have to wait until after work. James was the first to pull away, secretly pleased to hear Robbie’s disappointed little groan, though he was quick to offer consolation. “Come on, Robert – we’ll share a shower, then face the day together.”

Robbie let James climb out of bed first, grinning as he accepted a hand up. “Lead on, James, love. I’m all yours.”

James had no doubt that whatever their souls were made of, his and Robbie’s were the same, and he was thankful for whatever cosmic forces had brought them together at last. Perhaps it had even been Robbie’s Val, smiling down on them, giving them her blessing. It may have taken ten long years for them to reach this point, but James understood that every second of that long and complicated journey, though it had been painful at times, had been necessary to allow them to treasure and appreciate what they had together now.

And as Robbie pulled him back in for one more loving kiss, James allowed himself to stop thinking altogether, and to just savour the simple joy and pleasure of the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
> 
> Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Inky Love Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7443703) by [Vicar_and_His_Barman (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Vicar_and_His_Barman)




End file.
